


Death Doesn't Decriminate

by Gothams_Only_Wolf



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Cold War, Modern Era, Multi, Post-World War II, Rated T for Trevor's Language, Temporary Character Death, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-01-25 18:12:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18579877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothams_Only_Wolf/pseuds/Gothams_Only_Wolf
Summary: What the Belmont Hold, both public and private, couldn't tell anyone was how much Trevorhatedreincarnation.Five times Trevor was reincarnated and the one time someone important to him noticed.





	1. Fucking Dracula

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mysterionrises](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterionrises/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly not sure what I'm doing and I'm winging it like most things Trevor does but uh, enjoy!

* * *

A name synonymous with hunter, Belmonts have fought what goes bump in the night for centuries. The Belmont Hold was the place to go if one was a hunter, organized and neatly catalogued by a hand intimately familiar with it. A repository of knowledge, both past and present, and all the better for it. 

What the Belmont Hold, both public and private, couldn't tell anyone was how much Trevor _hated_ reincarnation.

* * *

****

**I.**

* * *

****

**-Wallachia: Town - Gresit; 1653-**

Fucking Gresit.

He knew the city like the back of his hand, practically memorized it as he traveled through the catacombs to see the body of the monster he'd killed (but it wasn't him, couldn't have been, even if he had _opinions_ about it and Speakers). 

Leading a band of Speakers to see the former resting place of someone named Alucard in the Belmont Hold some hundreds of years ago stirred up things Trevor swore he'd forgotten as a child. 

No Sleeping Soldier awaited them but a note did, addressed, of all things, to Trevor himself. 

_Dear Trevor,_

_I rest here no longer. Should you wish to find me, you will have to find my Father's Castle as well. He has been reborn, as I am sure you have, and his Castle along with him. I have my doubts about Sypha but alas, souls are unpredictable at best. Mother never figured out what made a soul a soul, after all._

_Alucard_

Trevor chewed on his lip and dismissed the curious Speaker's concern, his fingers curling around the whip of his ancestor, the consecrated one that the man had left behind in the Hold after finding the Morning Star. 

The one he distinctly remembered using when he'd done no such thing and yet he'd known exactly where it had fallen in the Hold. 

He cursed whatever had given him such a memory, the deity that decided the world needed a Trevor Belmont, and he decided that if he ever met them in person—

Trevor would punch them in the face.

* * *

He carried the letter with him as he searched Wallachia top to bottom for a fucking castle that the Sleeping Soldier had faith in appearing. Why should he take some stupid mythological Belmont figure seriously? 

"Why am I even—" Trevor grumbled to his horse, "Holy shit. There really is a new castle." followed quickly by, "Fuck me, that means there's a new Dracula." 

He couldn't take this one on, not by himself; he keenly missed the presence of magic by his side, the sharp sing of steel and then he shook his head. Belmonts had been fighting the bastard longer than a few centuries. 

What was one more Belmont in the scheme of things, when Dracula could apparently be reborn? 

He dismounted his horse, patted her three times on the rump and then removed his entire arsenal to fight the one monster that might actually kill him.

* * *

Trevor would live, the Saracen cheerfully told him, but he'd lost his left leg in the process. 

"May I ask what caused such a grevious wound, sir?" 

"Fucking Dracula." 

"I'm... sorry, did you say-?"

"I tried to kill Dracula by myself. I'm a Belmont, it runs in the family." The man looked alarmed. "Killing monsters, that is. Excommunicated by the Roman Catholic Church but who gives a shit? Still have Orthodox who like us just fine." 

"Ah. I have a friend who is learning how to make prosthetics. Would that be helpful on your personal crusade?" 

"It's... more family tradition and if your friend can put a sword in there, I am more than willing to be the test person." 

The Saracen chuckled at his bluntness. "Are all Wallachians like you?" 

"No, Belmonts are a special sort of idiot."

* * *

Trevor stared at the book of Belmont names, carefully traced over the name from 1455 and then his own, hundreds of years later. 

They were the only two in the book; Trevor had an ugly suspicion that whatever poor sod was named Trevor would end up punching Dracula in the face again. 

He briefly contemplated telling his children that his name was cursed and to never name their children after him. 

Only time would tell if the lie spread to enough Belmonts (and Belnades).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	2. Somewhere Between Blasphemy and Benediction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stake to the chest/battle mention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably gonna get sadder than I intended but it has a happy ending, I swear! 
> 
> Enjoy with caution~

* * *

****

**II.**

* * *

****

**-Kingdom of Romania: Town - Medias; 1893-**

The British party that traveled through town caught his attention for one reason and one reason only; they'd mentioned Dracula.

He thumped down into a chair at their table, enunciated in their tongue, ""You need help.""

""My good man,"" one started up and then-

"Abraham Van Helsing." One introduced himself in Romanian. "You're a Belmont, aren't you?" 

"Trevor Belmont, actually." Trevor had never been so relieved to hear his own language out of the mouth of a foreigner in his life. "Nice to see a fellow hunter at the ass end of the world, huh? If you're after Dracula, take me with you. I've a bone to pick and a face to punch." 

"What do you mean?" Van Helsing murmured after the man relayed that he could help the party. 

"Exactly what I said," He countered dryly. "My ancestors have punched him and it is practically tradition at this point."

* * *

This version of Dracula, he found, was very punch-in-the-face-worthy. 

The fact that he had to fight Roma to get to him? Not so much fun. 

"Oi, watch it, Morris!" Trevor called as his whip sang out and cracked a sword from an attacking Roma's hand. 

""My thanks!"" 

""Don't mention it."" He countered. 

Trevor spun on his heel to twist his whip around his elbow, the end hissing as it caught Dracula's ankle. 

""Attack!"" Van Helsing roared. 

He yanked on the whip with all of his might and punched Dracula in the face. "Remember me, bastard?" 

"Belmont!" 

"Exactly. You're even uglier than the last time I saw you." 

White knuckles struck his face, followed by a swipe from thick talons. 

He snarled around a mouthful of blood, "Eat shit and die!" 

A stake rammed itself through Dracula's ribcage, courtesy of the very pale Harker couple. It nearly hit Trevor's hidden chestplate and he let go of the vampire to check his chest. ""Sorry!"" 

""Watch where you put that, Harker, it almost went _through_ me."" He grumbled as he unsheathed his short sword. 

Trevor decapitated Dracula, privately hoping that Alucard had never seen this version of his Father. 

If Alucard was even still around. 

"Why did he recognize you?" Van Helsing prodded as they limped over to an abandoned Roma cart. 

"Every Belmont with my name has fought Dracula and remembers things... things that, by all natural laws, they should not." Trevor allowed Van Helsing to bandage his face even as he mused, "I know several cities like the back of my hand and yet I have never been there. The roads I know are four hundred years old, then two hundred, but as fresh and as vivid as the ones I know today." 

"It sounds as though it might match the Hindu concept of rebirth." 

"The what now?" Trevor pinned the man with a look, expecting an explanation. 

"They call it «reincarnation» and it is a cycle of rebirth on a wheel before they reach the summit of their being. It's new to us but perhaps your experience may be something similar." 

"How many times...?" 

"As many times as necessary in order to reach the summit in perfect understanding." Van Helsing elaborated with a shrug as he tended to the others in his party. 

"Fuck me sideways." 

"Begging your pardon-" 

... Thank you for the bandage, Van Helsing." he sighed, turning on his heel and whistling for his horse.

* * *

He dug for the letter Alcuard had left him in 1653, not surprised to find it carefully tucked into a jar and well-read, the folds of it foxed from how many times he'd smoothed his hands over it. 

Trevor left it there, sighing as he left the Hold with his cousin once more. He was restless, as though that Dracula hadn't been the _right_ one. Canvassing Wallachia didn't help nor did a trip to Constantinople. 

He hunted, sharpening his-admittedly-rusty skills until he could nail a fly at nearly 200 meters, based on French measurements. 

The vampires, the ones that breathed out his last name somewhere between blasphemy and benediction, were where he learned about Alucard. 

"Alucard said Belmonts punched first but I think they use knives," came the remark from one he'd caught hunting in a city.

"Did you just say _Alucard_?" Trevor prodded sharply. "You've seen the son of Dracula in person?" 

The vampire sneered and then inhaled, brown eyes widening at Trevor's genuine interest. "Why would a _**Belmont**_ care about the most powerful dhamphir in three centuries?" 

Trevor snorted as he pulled his metal throwing knives out of the vampire's shoulders. "We have... a history. Where is he?" 

"So you can kill him?" The vampire kept her distance but still bared her fangs when he asked. 

"I want to see how he's doing, shitstain." 

"A _Belmont_ is genuinely **concerned** about the son of Vlad Țepeș?" 

"For fuck's sake, it's not that unusual," Trevor barked in exasperation. "We've worked with him before." 

"Ah yes, one of you helped him kill Dracula and start near a half-millennia of war amongst our kind. How nice of you, Belmont." 

"He was trying, you overgrown toothpick, to kill himself with the original war he started. He was already dead and it took his son staking him, _a fucking Belmont to decapitate him_ and a magician to burn him to ash for him to realize that fact." He snarled back and then the vampire gave him a long, indescribable look. "What?" 

"That is oddly specific, little Belmont. Did your ancestor write it down so cleanly, so clearly—?" 

"I still have a knife with your name on it." Trevor warned as he shook the wooden knife at the vampire. "Think very carefully about your next question. Or don't. I could give a shit less about killing you and zero qualms to boot." 

"I wonder how much you remember, little Belmont." 

"Fuck you, fuck this," The knife drove home, the splintered halo of the consecration giving the vampire enough time to make one last quip. 

"Do you enjoy death, Belmont, as much as you did the first time?" 

"Not as much as I'm enjoying yours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	3. Waterfall of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death occurs; mention of Romania in WWI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a shitton of research and I hope it shows! 
> 
> Enjoy with caution~

* * *

****

**III.**

* * *

****

**-Romania: Town - Brăila; 1917-**

Abandoned as it had been to the Central Powers, Trevor's whip sang still, cracking down on vampire recruits in the German-Austria-Hungarian armies.

""Belmont, are you still in the city?"" His radio crackled to life, abandoned in order to give him more room with his whip. 

"God shits in my dinner once again," Trevor muttered as he watched the last vampire in this section turn to ash. "Yes, still here, despite my absolute favorite type of schnitzel covering the city in gravy." 

""... Good to know, Belmont. Rotation soon. Get as much rest as you can."" 

"I'll fucking try." 

""Roger, over."" 

He coiled the whip back up, the leather surprisingly still supple for a weapon that was literally centuries old. 

Sneaking around the Central Forces occupying the city, he slid down the door of the almost unstable apartment and let his head thump against the wood. 

He dozed, half of him alert for any inhuman noises. Trevor's scar itched and he snapped awake, hand immediately wrapping around both his gun and his whip. A flash of gold took care of the vampire, the snarls enough to keep even the enemy forces away. 

Trevor caught the second vampire by the wrist, yanking them away from a shade of gold he knew all too well, grunting as he fought this one and stabbed them up close and personal. 

Alucard didn't need to know he was here. 

His throat ached as he looked the dhamphir over, the waterfall of gold pinned and tucked until it almost didn't peek out from the cap. 

Eyes raking over the broad shoulders stuffed into an ill-fitting Russian uniform, Trevor forced himself to hand the radio over to his replacement, a Speaker descendant. 

He hated wars but this one might be the worst yet, within touching distance of Alucard but unable and unwilling to hurt the dhamphir any more than he already was.

* * *

Belmonts were known to be vicious and scrappy fighters. The family legacy followed him even with dozens of cousins and Belnades picking up the mantle of hunter. 

Which was how he found himself next to the Romanian King, hand firmly on his whip as they braced against enemies coming from all sides, the supernatural included. 

"I believe you are the first Belmont I have ever met, though I have heard many a story from my Aunt." His Majesty mentioned even as Trevor bit his tongue, which wasn't exactly his best point. "She said you were, forgive my incredulity, hunters of the supernatural." 

"We are, Your Majesty, and that is why I am here. The enemy has... enlisted the help of all manner of demons, vampires and ghouls. I have seen them up close and personal, Your Majesty." Trevor explained, short and to the point in order not to curse in front of his monarch. 

King Ferdinand looked him in the eyes, looked at the way he gripped his whip and then the smile he'd held disappeared. "Then my former beloved was correct." 

"You mean Cousin Elena, Your Majesty?" He blurted out, then chewed on his bottom lip as Queen Marie stiffened in her chair. "A thousand pardons, Your Majesties, but she was one of our best. We Belmonts and Belnades were sorry to see her leave." 

"... There were things in the old country too. I believe our bodyguard, Ferdinand." 

Trevor grimaced but understood, staying by their sides as the war got uglier on both sides.

* * *

****

**-Romania: Town - Outside of Bucharest; 1918-**

Trevor used the whip with ruthless efficiency but even for an experienced hunter, the only way out of this situation was death.

"Go, Your Majesties! My cousins will be far better at getting you out!" He yelled above the shrieks of creatures of the night. 

"What about-" 

" _I said **go** , Your Majesty!_" Trevor roared this time, blue eyes flashing like the hellfire that burned around them. "Leave me!" 

"... Thank you, Belmont." 

Trevor gave a short nod as he fought back the creatures, cuts beginning to drip a crimson song down his sides. A bleeding hunter was better than a civilian in the battle of the supernatural. 

"Come get me you rotten bastards!" He challenged, taunted as he fell into moves that his body knew but he didn't, drawing on his past to fight in the present. 

A hit to his ribs made him grit his teeth and spit blood at the next demon, teeth bared in his own snarl. 

He met them with the ferocity of the dying; knowing that with every footstep he gained, it was one less footstep for the night horde someone had made. It was as though someone had burned the Belmont crest into his back and had thrown him back nearly five centuries as he fought his way forward. 

When his right knee met the dirt, the demons cheered. 

""Belmont down! Belmont down! Belmont dying!"" 

Trevor's entire body shuddered as he got back up, laughing. "I'm Trevor fucking Belmont, and I've never lost a fight to man nor fucking beast!" 

The agonized shriek that went through the crowd made Trevor grin around the blood in his mouth. All of them knew the name. 

""Trevor Belmont died!"" 

"Like hell I did." He snarled, taking down the three they'd sent to kill him. "Wolf pack execution, huh? Cowards." 

"Well, if you're Trevor fucking Belmont, I must be the Sleeping Soldier." Alucard added dryly as Trevor swayed in place. "All we're missing is a Speaker magician, no? I can only imagine how well that went for the last night horde that tried to invade Bucharest." 

""SLEEPING SOLDIER!"" At that, the horde turned on its metaphorical heels and Trevor stood until the last of them disappeared with the sunrise. 

He dropped to his knees, then was caught by strong, cold arms. "Stay still Belmont, I'll get you to a-" 

"Don't bother. They got my stomach." He coughed, this time with the pain crashing through his body. "Bastards are... thorough... I'll give 'em that." 

"Belmont?" 

"Sorry..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, comment, etc.


	4. Nazi Fucking Vampires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mention of Nazi-affiliated vampires & Soviet take-over of Romania

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, guess I left y'all on a cliffhanger last chapter! 
> 
> Enjoy with caution~

* * *

****

IV.

* * *

****

**-Romania: Town - Oradea; 1942-**

Trevor thought he wouldn't be fighting vampires on the edge of Romania, where he'd been sent to be _safe_ , considering he was one of the few 'pure-blooded' Belmonts left in the world these days.

Yet here he was — the undying shrieks of nothing less than _Nazi fucking **vampires**_ exploding under the crack of a 500 hundred year old consecrated whip and silver sword. 

It didn't help when the vampires were intermixed with humans and were shooting at him with creepy guns. 

It was only Trevor's well-honed instincts that had him coiling the whip up and dodging whatever was incoming. It clanged against the trees and knocked an enemy off his feet, the metal clicking against magnetics. 

"Are you alright?" Romanian but flavored with an accent he wasn't familiar with; any port in a storm would do, he decided. 

"I had it handled." He uncoiled the whip again, lashing out and exploding another vampire. "Mostly. I don't do humans all that much and those fuckers are hellbent on helping those Nazi fucking vampires." 

The dark-haired one actually cleaned out his ear, looked at the ash floating down to join the piles of it on the forest floor and shrugged. 

""He said that HYDRA's helping, get this, Nazi vampires."" 

""... I think this counts as one of those occult things.""

"Are you a haiduc*?" The dark-haired one asked even as he shot a human point-blank. "That's HYDRA, by the way, Nazi deep-science division." 

"Belmont, actually, but I'm flattered you think I'm good enough to be haiduc." 

"I thought my parents were pulling my leg when it came to the supernatural and Belmonts too." 

Trevor grinned and dusted another vampire as they spoke, "Hate to break the bubble but Romania's full of it and Belmonts punch the things that go bump in the night." 

""A little help would be nice!"" 

"I better go help that idiot." 

"Let me guess, your idiot?" 

The man gave a wry chuckle and said, "You have no idea."

* * *

He managed to outlive the war, for once. It was the Soviet occupation that would end up killing him, if for nothing other than the distinct lack of supernatural things around the Belmont lands. 

The castle that appeared high in the Carpathian Mountains and had people fleeing to him suggested otherwise.

"It appeared and nearly half of our rebellion fell to it. This is beyond us and the Soviets, though I wouldn't mind if He ate those bastards instead." 

It was, however, _well_ within range of a Belmont bored out of his mind. "Guess that whip is coming out of retirement."

* * *

He took a mule up to the castle, releasing it when it refused to go any further and trekked the rest of the way on foot. 

"Oh _Dracula_..." He taunted, "You're alone up here in your cobwebbed castle when you could be eating Wallachia's enemies." 

Glowing red eyes pinned him as much as the enormous hand around his throat. "Belmont. What do you mean by that?" 

Trevor gestured emphatically at his still held throat and coughed as he was released. "... Exactly... what I meant. Russians are occupying... Wallachia and oppressing her people. The Dracula I know... wouldn't stand for it." He wheezed and then took in a deep, settling breath. "It fucking kills me to ask but I am; are you willing to kill humans in the name of a country that used to be yours?" 

Crimson eyes looked him over, caught at his slowly greying hair. 

Dracula sneered, "Is it because you cannot defeat me?" 

Trevor rolled his eyes and cracked his back. "I figured I'd give you a heads up on a meal, considering they're making their way here now. Humans have advanced pretty damn far, you old fart, and they're catching up to you in science too. Better kill them before they actually kill you." 

"Are all hunters so blunt, so kind to their former prey?" 

"I killed more vampires than I cared to count in the last war we had. Your rivals have made plenty of offspring for me to kill. I'm not going out of business any time soon." 

"And if I turn them instead?" 

"Again, still not out of a job. If it comes to that, I'll just kill you." 

"What if you die?" Dracula drawled, white talons almost scraping his beard as his immortal enemy looked down at him. 

"I wish it'd stick." Trevor countered, his tone nearly as dry as Dracula's castle. 

"So I haven't been imagining things; you keep coming back and killing me." 

"It's about fucking time you figured it out." He grumbled. "If you'd stay dead, I wouldn't be here, but you have zero fucking concern for some poor hunter's soul." 

"I can kill as many Russians as I like?" 

"As many as you can get your hands on, you dusty asshole." Trevor answered as he watched Dracula think about it. 

"If I kill Romanians?" 

"Then I'll fucking reforge the Morning Star and nail your ass to your own shitty castle." 

"... It seems we have a deal, Belmont." 

"My ancestors are rolling in their graves but fuck it, modern times call for ancient solutions." He agreed, shaking the massive hand and stepping back into the sunlight.

* * *

****

**-Romania: Town - Belmont Estate; 1949-**

Trevor almost cackled when a bedraggled Russian officer knocked on his door, looking worse for wear and in full daylight to boot.

""We're being hunted."" 

""Oh? And what's that got to do with me, sir? I'm just a superstitious old fool."" He took great pleasure in grinding it in, cracking his back with a yawn. ""It's not like I told you that there are things in this old country of ours that won't appreciate your occupation. That things go bump in the night and eat people, sir. If there was such a thing, there's nothing I can do; your government took my weapons and called them religious vagaries."" 

""If you had your weapons...?"" 

""I might be able to help, sir, but without them, I'm just an old man."" Trevor lied through his teeth, the Belmont Hold thrumming beneath his feet.

""I will find them. I do not trust my compatriots not to destroy them. Will you be here?"" 

""Always, sir, and at your service."" He gave a simpering smile and then closed the door. "So long as Dracula keeps his word, I'm not doing a damn thing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	5. Champion Fucking Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Muse, she go Nyoom! So ta-da, new chapter! 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

****

V.

* * *

****

**-East Germany: Town - Dresden; 1961-**

Monsters migrated and hunters followed, which was how he found himself chasing Soviet vampires in the Eastern Bloc of Germany.

He suddenly wished he could talk to Leon Belmont, some thousand years ago. Was this how it felt to leave your country and land in unfamiliar territory? To carry the weapons of your childhood with you and fight an evil you couldn't possibly kill all at once? 

Trevor shook his head to rid himself of such speculation. He threw his wooden knife and yanked at the right angle to have the wired knife return to his outstretched fingers. 

At least none of them were Dracula's. 

He wondered briefly if the dusty old bat had even left Romania, considering there were plenty of Soviets still left there. 

""Belmont sighted down Alley Six."" 

Trevor somersaulted and spun himself upright to face the new threat, wooden knife clutched in his right hand with the left occupied by the whip. 

Dhamphirs, two of them, and outfitted with modern armor. ""Sir, he's spotted us."" 

Blood spilled down his face, his scar made anew by his enemies and sticking his hair to his forehead. 

""Assist him then and tend any wounds the Belmont might have."" With the sound of Alcuard's voice crackling out of the speakers, Trevor almost dropped his guard. 

_Almost._

"How do I know you're not with them?" He questioned sharply as he tightened his grip on his knife. 

""A Belmont who doesn't trust us, how unusual."" Alucard murmured, sounding a little too much like the old bat. ""You are Trevor Belmont, yes?"" 

"Why the fuck would I confirm that?" 

The laughter that came from the hand-radio made him tense up before— ""That's him alright. Keep him safe."" 

""Yessir."" The two dhamphirs turned off the radio and one dug into a pouch to offer a first aid kit. ""Can we at least bandage that cut? It's going to get infected if we don't."" 

Trevor coiled the whip and kept a good grip on his knife but sat down with his back pressed against the wall. "Whatever. Hurry it up or we'll lose them in the sewers." 

At that, the dhamphirs traded looks. ""How did you know about the sewers?"" 

"I'm a fucking Belmont." He responded with a tone that sheared right through the tension in the air. "I'd be a sorry one if I didn't do pattern recognition, don't you think?" Bandaged and given water (just water, he checked), Trevor charged ahead, cursing as the vampires fled up. "Don't even _think_ about touching me." 

He snapped his whip, caught a clothing line and then vaulted up using his whip as an aid, crash-landing on a vampire with the wooden knife buried in the base of their neck. 

The chase led them to the sewers, Trevor skidding down on a wet cement rail with his boots scraping at every catch. 

He couldn't avoid the last catch, a huge chunk of stone at the bottom but as he spun and braced for impact, familiar arms caught him. 

Azure locked with gold, Trevor's fury dying on his lips for half-a-moment before it returned two-fold. 

"Off! Get the fuck off me!" He slammed his knee (once again) into Alucard's steel balls and winced as Alucard dropped him into the sewage with a grimace. 

"Have it your way Belmont. You know, an ancestor of yours did that to me once." 

"Lucky bastard," he spat, shaking off of his whip. "I hate you, this whip is literally a half millenium old and you dumped both of us into shit water. I'll have to spend a week re-oiling the damn thing. Fuck you very much." 

""Why are we helping him again? He appears to hate nothing less than your guts, old friend."" 

""He reminds me of someone I knew once,"" Alucard's tone grew fond, nearly sweet as he continued, "The first Trevor and I had a similar relationship. This surprises me not at all, Garret.""

* * *

Fighting with partners whose strength surpassed his at times didn't bother him, especially when they launched him at their opponents. 

""Why do you never flinch back from our strength?"" Garret prodded once, situated as they were on a pile of ash that had been a warehouse full of vampire recruiters. 

"Should I?" He wiped off his wired knife and sheathed it, the curve of the wire resting under his worn leather jacket. 

""Most would be afraid of us, of our mission. What is a coven of dhamphirs doing defending humanity?"" Garret supplied with a risen red brow. 

"You're helping hunters, helping people and fucking _asking_ if they'd like to donate blood to thier saviors. Why the fuck would I give a shit about your strength other than the fact that you can make me practically fly without wings?" Trevor shot back, coiling the whip and tucking it against his side. "What?" 

""... Would you donate blood?"" 

"No." He murmured, drawing his hands down his face. "Before you ask, I don't give it at all; too many things that go bump in the night that would be ecstatic to get thier hands on some Belmont blood." He omitted the one time he had, a full five centuries ago, when he'd been a different man. 

Garret grimaced but agreed with, ""Well, you're certainly right about that, Belmont.""

* * *

Trevor fought with the dhamphirs for nearly five years, earning more scars along the way and, impossibly, Alucard's friendship again. 

"My ancestor, the one you talk about, what the hell was so special about the bastard that you took me trying to take your nuts out so fondly?" He asked, rolling a bottle of West German beer in his hands which had been snuck in from Munich. 

"You both tried to knee me there to incapacitate me. Trevor, the first, he grew to be a dear friend, he and his wife." 

Dear friend, his ass; they'd been _together_ , tangling him in twin sets of blond hair that he'd loved with all of his soul. Adrien Fahrenheit Țepeș was a champion fucking _**liar**_ but Trevor wouldn't catch him up. 

"Bullshit," slipped out before Trevor could control his voice. 

"In what way?" 

"Nobody's that fond of a guy who killed his family. Blood family, at that." 

"We killed an already dead vampire, Trevor, and we did it to save the world." Alucard countered softly. 

"Is it weird?" 

"Hmm." 

"Talking to me about him?" 

"No." At that Trevor mimed cleaning to his ear. "I feel as though I'm talking to a kindred spirit, someone who understands why I do things the way I do them." Well shit, he guessed he hadn't kept it quite under wraps — "I think you're the first person this century to treat me as a person rather than my rank." 

"Then they're fucking idiots," which restored the equilibrium of their snark-n-bitch sessions. 

He prayed awfully hard to the inconsiderate fuck of a diety that he wouldn't die in Alucard's arms this time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	6. The Belmont Braincell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the title XD
> 
> Enjoy~

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**+I.**

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**-Romania: Town - Bucharest; 2018-**

The club pulsed with a low, thumping beat, Trevor uninterested in anything but his drink when he heard, "See? God hates me." His head snapped up so fast, Trevor swore he pulled a muscle as familiar blonde bobbed through the crowd and touched the bar, the fall of hair almost the same. "I can't get a single man to buy me a drink."

"What a shame. God shits in my dinner once again," he said as he paid for a whiskey on the rocks and slid it down the bar into her hand. 

Blue eyes widened and then he had a small but firm hand guiding him to the corner of the bar. 

"Trevor?" 

"Sypha?" 

"'Where did you land the castle, Sypha?'" The soft question had both of them whirling and pulling Alucard into their huddle. 

"'Right on top of us!' I thought I was the only one-" Sypha blurted out. 

"Fuck. Wait, when were you reborn-" Trevor questioned. 

"What do you mean the only one-" Alucard questioned before he hauled them up into the VIP section, Garret and the other dhamphirs barely keeping their manners as all three of them looked each other over. "Trevor first." 

"I've been reborn over and over again. It's connected to your Father, by the way, though I'm not sure why." He managed before Sypha cracked his back from the force of the hug. 

"What years?" She interrogated as she snuggled against his chest. Inconsiderate gods above did he miss that. 

"1653, 1893, the two world wars... Sometime in the Cold War. Why?" 

"1553, 1793, the Roaring Twenties, the Korean- Did we literally miss each other by a decade or so those last ones?" She replied before Alucard held them close, his fingers digging into their shoulders. 

"I wasn't alone but I was also unaware. I could've sworn that was you at the end of World War I but you died on me before-" 

"Died?!" 

"Look, you try to take on a night horde to protect the royal family with no magic _and_ no vampiric strength and see how well _**you**_ fare-" 

They fell to bickering until someone cleared their throat, likely Garret by the sound of it. 

"Our apologies Garret." Alucard sighed, his hands finding theirs and tugging them to sit down in his lap. "When you kneed me, back in '61...?" 

"I was so close to kissing you but you didn't know so it would've been a clusterfuck I didn't feel like explaining." Trevor confessed as he brushed the back of his knuckles against Alucard's ridiculous cheek. "I didn't want to hurt you; you've had enough of that, I'm sure, in the time we were gone." 

"As adorable as that is, Alucard, we're here for a reason." Garret prodded as he motioned with his head at the contingent of vampires entering the club. 

"Are you telling me we've all been staking out this club as a vampire front and only just now came across each other?" Sypha hissed as she drew a little sound ward over them. 

Trevor shrugged and muttered, "Again, despite knowing fuck all, I _do_ know a vampire when I see one." 

"Sit here and be yourselves, please. I've honestly been waiting for a few centuries to rub the fact that I _like_ human companions." Alucard requested as his hands curled around thier waists again. 

"Don't have to tell me twice," Trevor chuckled as he deliberately sprawled in Alucard's grip, the edge of his shirt riding up as he did so. 

"I said be yourselves; don't kill me with the sexual tension." came the retort as Trevor nipped at familiar cool skin. 

"What, like its hard to catch a vampire's attention with humans nibbling on you instead of vice versa?" Sypha teased, her fingers tangling loosely wth Trevor's as they both worked on hickies.

* * *

"Presiding over this meeting is... Alucard of Wallachia." Garret murmured as the coven spread out over the VIP section but far enough away from Alucard, Sypha and Trevor. "His companions are a Belmont and a Belnades." 

"Even with centuries left to go, Lord Țepeș, your attachment to humans is distinctly unpleasant." 

"Is it, Lord Hill?" Alucard drawled, his throat moving in such a way that Trevor hummed in appreciation. "Why is that? Should I take up wth my own kind, to whom I am a leader? Should I take up wth vampires I find lacking, when I am under a millennium and stronger than half I meet? Tell me, Lord Hill, what would you do in my situation?" 

"Well-" the vampire blustered and then Trevor leaned forward with lazy, sloppy body language. 

"Too much of a coward to go after what you want, Lord Hill? Alucard is, admittedly, one gorgeous dhamphir but if you were going to catch his attention, I'd stop killing humans. He likes those; he's half of them and wholly sympathetic to their being hunted." 

"Humans have hunters of their own, Belmont, _your kind_ amongst them. Why should he worry?" 

The grin that spread across his face when the club's lighting changed was full of teeth, Trevor practically purring his answer, "It's not _**us**_ he's worried about but those poor civilians. The ones you keep eating." 

"How dare-" 

"I dare, shitstain, because I can defend myself from your pathetic fangs. Your fucking awful tactics and even shittier attitude only add you to the pile of ash I've already laid to rest." 

"I'll kill you _first_ Belmont-!" 

Lord Hill lunged, Trevor dodged and then uncoiled his whip to keep from hitting the glowing glass floor.

He landed with his wired knife in his hand, whip cracking as he cleared the area around them. 

"Have at it, you walking, talking pair of leather boots." 

Lord Hill roared, charged and—

Trevor's whip snapped out in a beautiful arc that connected with the vampire's face, taking a chunk of ash with it. 

He spun to the side as another vampire tried to tackle him from behind, the wooden knife's whistling turning into a crackling thump of consecration. 

The minion exploded into dust. 

Trevor was already fighting the next of the coven as the whip curled against his elbow, wrapped around his fist and disintegrated yet another enemy when he punched them. 

A song of steel swished past him and Alucard was in the thick of it with him. 

"About damn time, you pretty bastard!" 

"I was a bit busy keeping them from biting Sypha, thank-you-very-much—" 

"So I'm not bite-protection worthy?!" He yelped as Alucard's sword blocked a punch. 

"You would be if you didn't move like the drunk you were-" 

"Oh, bringing past lives into this, are we?" Trevor snapped, stabbing a vampire at Alucard's back, pressing his own to the broad span of muscle. 

"I merely meant that you move in a surprising manner! I cannot calculate your moves, oh favored fool of mine." Alucard growled in response. 

Trevor choked on his next reply, literally, as a vampire's hands caught his throat. He gave a wordless snarl as he braced against Alucard and kicked with the strength borne of desperation. 

" ** _Get your hands off of him or the next breath you draw will be your last._** " Alucard flat-out ordered, drawing on everything he was and Trevor felt the weight that seemed to reverberate in his bones at the command. " _ **Release the Speaker.**_ " 

The vampires screamed as they fell to their knees and Trevor gasped in a breath, cocked back his whip-wrapped fist and punched as hard as he could, turning the vamp into so much ash. 

" _ **You said I was weaker for associating with humans. I told you that my own kind, both dhamphir and vampire, cannot HANDLE ME and you persisted. Trevor, are you alright?**_ " 

Trevor coughed, rubbed at his neck and then rasped out, "Just kinky. Nothing... a good fucking... can't fix." 

Alucard deflated at that, his laughter slightly on the hysterical side. "Only you, Belmont, would be thinking about that right now." 

"... Can't help it." 

"You're sort of hot when you do that," Sypha agreed as she healed his throat with a brush of her fingers against his skin. "What was that, by the way? I felt that." 

"Well," Trevor scratched at his scar, running the moment over in his mind. "Drac _was_ their ruler for a reason. He probably had this command too but because Alucard's half and there's this thing called hybrid vitality, uh... He's got it but it works so much better on vamps and his own kind but not so much on humans." 

"... Well done, Trevor." Sypha praised before she broke into giggles at the sight of the remaining vampires with thier mouths open from shock. 

"What do you know, the Belmonts have a brain after all." Garret teased from the VIP section. 

" _The_ Belmont, actually, Garret." Alucard offered dryly. "The one, the only-" 

"Trevor fucking Belmont, at your service." He doffed an imaginary hat at his old friend and cracked a grin when the dhamphir rolled his eyes. The vampires around them recoiled in absolutely horror, all remaining eyes glued to the whip Trevor was currently coiling up. "Yeah, that Trevor, the one who punched Dracula in the face and decapitated him." 

"That was in 1475?!" 

"And?" 

"Impossible." 

"Says the vampire who literally just tried to take on Dracula's son and _lost_ , I might add, _rather spectacularly_." Trevor countered before he shrugged. "Reincarnation's a bitch but worth it."

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**-Romania: Town - Bucharest, Dhamphir Hideout; 2018-**

"'Reincarnation's a bitch but worth it.' Really?" Sypha even used air quotes, which hurt his feeling a little.

Trevor rose a brow. "You two normally get in the last word. It's about damn time it was my turn." 

"He's right." Alucard huffed from where he was trapped underneath them, all three of them tangled in one another. Trevor opened his mouth to celebrate when Alucard continued, "Don't be insufferable about it." 

"Ruin all my fun, huh?" Trevor murmured fondly, pillowing his elbow on the covers and absently traced designs from the wards around the Belmont Hold on Alucard's chest. "I missed you, y'know." 

Sypha sat up suddenly, her hair fanning down as she looked at Alucard with a calculating look. "Alucard, were you celebate after we died?" 

Alucard flushed, opened his mouth and then muttered, "I told you, none of them could handle me, in the thralls of passion or otherwise." 

"Does that mean we get to deal with over a hundred years worth of blue balls?" 

Alucard pinned him to the bed and rumbled against his neck, "Only if you want to, bratty Belmont." 

"Like you even had to ask," Trevor laughed breathlessly, arching up beneath his dhamphir.

* * *

He was pinned like he'd been in 1478, his shoulders occupied by two sets of blond, two shades that he knew intimately from his past and now his present. 

"Trevor?" Alucard murmured, his lips brushing against Trevor's pulse as he spoke. "How many times did you see me?" 

"Three or four times, honestly." Trevor sighed, pressing his cheek to Alucard's silken hair. "I didn't want to let you know because I would live and then die again and again and—I knew it would drive you as insane as your old man if I let you know." 

"Just this once, I think you were right about avoiding me." Alucard's fangs rest over his pulse, which picked up but settled as Trevor chuckled. "And if I turned you? Made you stay with me?" 

"You'd never do it." 

Alucard licked, his fangs brushing but not piercing his artery. "Are you so sure?" 

"Because the idea of a Belmont vampire is as ridiculous as three people being able to marry." He countered, tilting his head to offer Alucard more space to nibble on. 

Alucard's tongue paused halfway up his throat, broad shoulders shaking with mirth. "Well, well, you have me beat there." 

"Of fucking course I do, it's my turn to use the Belmont brain cell." 

Alucard started laughing, shaking Sypha awake on the other side. "Oh, dearest, you missed it. Trevor had the Belmont brain cell!" 

"They borrowed it from the Belnades, obviously." She mumbled as she pressed sleepy kisses to Trevor's shoulder and collarbone. 

That sent their lover into peals of laughter, head thrown back as he lost it for a moment. "Oh, I will treasure this." 

"Pffft. Damn well better or we're kicking your ass next time we come back." He blew a raspberry in Alucard's direction. 

"By all means, little hunter, try it." Alucard purred before he loomed over Trevor, resplendent in his glory. "I have a far better use for that tongue though." 

"Yeah?" Trevor challenged, his fingers tangling in obscenely long hair, tugging the dhamphir down. "Do it." 

"Gladly, my Belmont."

* * *

"Trevor," Alucard looked down at their joined hands, "there are places where you can have three people legally recognized as a triad." 

Trevor's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth before he blurted, "About fucking time." 

"It's not anywhere close to Romania but some of the European Union countries have made... strides, shall we say, when it comes to those in more than one relationship." 

"Marriage is still off the table though, I'm guessing?" 

"In some countries it is, in some it isn't." Sypha hummed, reading the document Alucard had complied in his lap. "You and Alucard can get married now, for what it's worth?" 

"Where do they overlap? The... Whatever we are and me being able to marry Alucard?" Trevor didn't know the terms but he wanted to stay together at least. 

"The term is polyfidelitous triad and about the only that crosses off both of our requirements is Sweden." Alucard murmured. "I'm also not opposed to marrying you, my hunter." 

"Sypha gets you next time, huh?" He joked, leaning in for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, forgot I had the ending for this just sitting around! 
> 
> Please enjoy~

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**-Epilogue-**

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**-Sweden: Town - Stockholm, Rosendal Palace; 2020-**

""Why do we need a new bodyguard?""

""Remember what happened last month? With that... thing, Your Majesty?"" 

""Oh. May we meet them?"" 

""Presenting Mr. Belmont-Țepeș, Your Majesties."" 

Trevor walked in, gave the same bow he'd given the Romanian King nearly a hundred years prior and murmured, ""I will do my utmost to serve Your Majesties."" 

""Can you tell us what that thing was, Belmont-Țepeș? Am I pronouncing that right?"" The sole Prince of Sweden asked, concern lingering in his gaze. 

""That, Your Majesty, was a vampire. And it's Țepeș, so no, Your Majesty. If it makes you more comfortable, we can use just Belmont-"" 

""I would rather get it right, Belmont-Țepeș. Vampires exist?"" Prince Carl murmured. 

""They do, Your Majesty, and thank you for trying. Țepeș is an old Romanian family name, so it surprises me not that most people don't bother trying to pronounce it. My husband finds it amusing, thankfully, rather than being offended, Your Majesty."" 

""Ah. What exactly is it you do as bodyguard?"" 

That Trevor knew but he wasn't sure on his Swedish, even with Alucard's daily tutoring. ""Bear with me, Your Majesties, but Swedish isn't my best language just yet...""

* * *

Trevor knew when Alucard visited because the household staff only sighed on his lunch break. 

"Hello, dearest husband." Alucard purred, looking ridiculously handsome even in the greys and blues he now preferred even though the overcoat still managed to blend in during winter. 

"Are you always going to call me that?" Trevor teased, tugging Alucard down for a kiss. 

"Mmhmm. As long as you'll hear it," came the slightly bittersweet reply, "my hunter." 

"I'll pry my ears open if I have to in order to hear those dulcet, shitty tones." Trevor snorted. 

"And here I thought I was being sweet." Alucard snorted as they sat down, Trevor deliberately wrapping his leg around Alucard's. "You can take a Belmont out of Romania but you can't take the piss-and-vinegar, clearly." 

"You love me anyway." Trevor pointed out as he shook his nice, heated lunch on the spoon. 

"I think there's some paperwork somewhere that says as much." The dry tone didn't disguise the obscene amount of affection behind it. "I suppose I do, Mr. Țepeș." 

"That's Belmont-Țepeș, you." Trevor countered around a mouthful of stew, swallowing it to nudge Alucard. "How's Sypha's shop doing?" 

"Word has gotten around to the local Speakers; she's hired two new people in the last week." Alucard hummed. "How's the training going for your set of bodyguards?" 

"Don't ask me that." Trevor grumbled, offering a bite of his stew to his husband. "Three of them aren't listening and the pair that are are still too slow for wired knife training. At least they've mastered stakes, which isn't hard and a ten year old could learn it in their sleep-hmm." 

Alucard kept kissing until Trevor melted into the familiar embrace and then sighed when their lips parted. "Okay, okay, so they're not Belmonts, Belnades or dhamphirs who pick shit up at the drop of a hat. They're doing... alright, for not being from a family that hunts the stuff that goes bump in the night. I am considering sending for our retired Master Trainer, Cousin Elena's daughter." 

"You had the patience for your children." 

"Well, yeah, they were my kids." 

"And the cousins." 

"And the-Hey! No changing the subject." 

"I was going to suggest you have some with Sypha and then train the recruits alongside Cousin Elena's daughter." Alucard said as he pillowed his chin on Trevor's hair. 

Trevor thought about other children, ones with Alucard's fierce golden eyes or glorious hair, his mouth moving before the rest of him caught up with, "Why don't _you_ have kids with Sypha?" 

"Only a quarter vampire and shamed for it by dhamphir and vampire alike; yes, that is the life I want for my children." Alucard rumbled, the tips of his talons peeking through his woolen gloves. "What an excellent idea, Belmont." 

"You mean kids that would be so fucking dangerous that they'd kick the ass of every creature that tried?" He fired back. "Sypha's magic and your voice combined into one or two very cute kids." 

Alucard opened his mouth to argue and then sighed as he wrapped around Trevor again. "... The thought of that had not crossed my mind, dearest. That they would inherit my voice." 

"Or look like your Mom. Inconsiderate gods above, they'd be beating suitors back with a stick and a half." Trevor murmured thoughtfully. 

"Not if I got to the suitor in question first-" 

"Don't do your Dad, don't be the creeping bat in the background, looming and lurking with the best of the shadows. Don't tell me he's not here because my scar's been itching since yesterday." He replied with a look up at his suddenly sheepish husband. 

"... I invited him to dinner. He wanted to see if you two were the same you'd been." 

"Maybe I can coax your old man into-" 

"No. Whatever it is, get that thought out of your mind right now." 

"Grand kids. Your old man will love them to death." 

"Trevor, don't you _dare_." 

"Operation Old Man is a go." 

" _ **Trevor, no.**_ " 

"Trevor, _yes_. Besides, that doesn't work on me."

* * *

When dinner was over, Trevor made his move. 

"So, Dracula... What would you say to the idea of grand bats?" 

"Trevor, I said-" 

"Continue, Belmont." Dracula waved off his son, pinning Trevor with an intense gaze. 

"Bats that might come out with adorably squishy cheeks and be related to you." 

The glowing red eyes brightened. "How do you plan on getting them from my son?" 

"You don't wanna know." Trevor gave a full on grin to the old man. 

"More family would be nice but only if my son and your Speaker are both on board." 

Sypha hummed from her weaving work, the blue a familiar one, "If Alucard is up for it, I am." 

Alucard looked between the three of them and sighed. "I have no idea how long I'm going to live, let alone children who are a quarter vampire. They'll outlive you both, at the very least." 

"So long as your old man keeps popping back up, so will we." Trevor pointed out. "There's plenty of Belmont offshoots these days and some idiot will name thier kid Trevor despite my fucking warning. While I'd like to see little Țepeș running around, Alucard, it's ultimately your choice." 

"I'll have to think it over."

* * *

By the time Trevor had managed to get the Swedish Natural Vanguard into decent shape, Alucard had mulled it over for a year and a half. They hadn't pressured him, hadn't brought up the topic unless he had and they'd settled into a routine again. 

Trevor chewed on the end of his pen as he went over schedule changes for the SNV, back pressed against the headboard as Alucard got into bed. 

"Trevor?" 

"Mm." 

"I've made up my mind." 

Sypha spat out her toothpaste, rinsed her mouth and climbed into the bed as well, cross-legged and expectant. Trevor's pen dropped and he tucked the papers away to give his husband his full attention. 

"I'm not even sure it will work, considering what I am, but I want to at least make an attempt. I want to track as much as I can, given that my strength in a human body might be detrimental to Sypha." He turned to Sypha, who linked their fingers. "The last thing I want to do is hurt either of you." 

"Trying is enough, Alucard." She reassured, "I don't suppose you've been tracking my periods to tell me you want to start as soon as possible?" 

Alucard flushed, muttered, "I can smell it." 

"Oh. Well, that makes things less awkward." She decided, pressing a kiss to the back of Alucard's hand. "I guess Operation Bat Dad is a go, hmm, Trevor?" 

"You weren't supposed to tell him that!" Trevor yelped indignantly. 

"Oh, you have the Belmont braincell on loan again?" Alucard teased. 

He pounced on Alucard, nipping at his husband as he and Sypha gleefully disrobed the man they loved. 

Oh but if Trevor ever met the inconsiderate deity, he might kiss them instead of punch. They probably deserved the punch though considering the shit they'd put him through for this moment.

* * *

A name synonymous with hunter, Belmonts have fought what goes bump in the night for centuries. The Belmont Hold was the place to go if one was a hunter, organized and neatly catalogued by a hand intimately familiar with it. A repository of knowledge, both past and present, and all the better for it. 

What the Belmont Hold, both public and private, couldn't tell anyone was how Trevor learned to _live_ with reincarnation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


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